Second Chances
by Roguie
Summary: Everyone leaves, why should she have thought Connor any different?  An examination of a possible life before the ARC for Abby, and how she copes with the end of 4x07.


A/N: Don't really know where this came from, it's definitely not a fluffy Connor/Abby, more like an examination of how tortured Abby's life may have been and how that relates back to Connor and the decisions she makes. Some days I think I spend too much time wondering why something happens and not enough time just enjoying. The end of 4x07 really irked me because it could go several ways, most of which are pear shaped and I'm not liking the wait to find out exactly what's about to happen.

Spoilers: 4x07, not really the meat of the episode, but the ending of it is alluded to.

Warning: Very brief allusion to sexual abuse.

Summary: Everyone leaves, why should she have thought Connor any different? An examination of a possible life before the ARC for Abby, and how she copes with the end of 4x07.

**Disclaimer: I so obviously don't own Primeval; I just like to borrow the characters and mutate their inner voices. Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.**

Second Chances

By: Danae Bowen

All good things come to an end. Abby Maitland understood this better than most people. She understood that people died, went away, took something said the wrong way and disappeared out of her life, and each time they did they took a little piece of her with them.

It started early - she and Jack were out with their dad, Jack riding high on his shoulders, her holding her daddy's hand as they walked through the carnival. They'd been happy, they had, the only thing missing being her mum who was at home, preparing for a school trip she was helping moderate for Abby the next day. Abby was eight and Jack not yet out of diapers, so neither understood what that loud sound was before their daddy stumbled and fell to the ground. Abby's crystal blue eyes filled with terror as she was pulled to the ground with him, her gaze going to Jack who'd fallen from Daddy's shoulders, landed poorly and struck himself unconscious two meters away. She barely had a chance to see the gaping wound in her Daddy's throat before he rolled her underneath his body, shielding her even as his life poured from him, staining her hair rust red, forming a pool beneath her face as he became a dead weight on her back, crushing her slowly.

When you're eight years old time passes differently, and in her mind she'd lived a lifetime under her Daddy's body. In reality, the police had arrived not twenty minutes later; she was pulled free, wrapped in a blanket and she and a crying Jack were left in the back of a police car while the officers poked and prodded at her father's corpse.

It seemed to her that her happy family was carried off in the coroner's wagon that carried off her daddy. Her mum closed into herself, the cold ire in her eyes letting Abby know that this was her fault - her fault for begging her daddy to take her to the carnival, her fault for having to be protected when he could have used his hands to stop the blood from escaping his throat, her fault for taking him out of the house and not bringing him home. Jack became the favourite at that point, everything was always about Jack - comfort Jack, Abby, he's got headaches from when your Daddy let him fall to save you. Hold Jack, Abby, he's afraid to be too high up cause of that fall you caused. Move over and let Jack in your bed, Abby, he's having nightmares after what you put him through, 'n you need to help him. Gotta control Jack, Abby, he's growing up fast, no thanks to you.

She was twelve before she'd snapped, her temper getting the better of her and she'd screamed at her mum. Every feeling she'd had since she was eight came through, and she'd cried out the unfairness of it all, she keened for the loss of her father, and her mum caught it all full force. Her mum who'd shaken her head at the girl and spun on her heel, walking out of the house never to come back.

Abby waited. She waited two entire weeks for her mum to come home. She took Jack to school every day and picked him up every night. She cooked the food they had in the flat, gave Jack his bath, pulled the signed rent cheque out of her mum's desk drawer and dropped it through the landlord's mail slot. She did everything she knew how to do, but when the food ran out she had no money to buy more. When the rent cheque bounced, the landlord came knocking. When her mum didn't come home, Abby and Jack lost not only their mum, but their home and all their belongings as well.

A lifetime spent under her dad, waiting for him to get to his feet and tell her everything's okay. Weeks alone spent waiting on her mum to come home and care for her like she was supposed to. She didn't get to see them empty out their flat, she just knew that her favourite stuffed dog didn't make it to the foster home the social worker dropped her off at. She didn't get to pack her own bag, so that scarf her daddy bought her three days before he died wasn't in her suitcase, and she never saw it again. They dropped off a picture of her mum, her and Jack, but not the one of her daddy. They didn't ask her a single question about what she wanted, and in the end Abby lost everything.

The first foster family was nice and understanding; they kept Abby and Jack together for months while she recovered. The mum helped her with homework and taught her how to bake chocolate chip cookies. The dad took them out places, like the horse track, and it was a lot of fun. They'd had a big brother there too, and he really liked Abby. He was constantly hanging out in her room and playing with her, and even though he was seventeen and it was kind of weird he'd want to spend time with her, Abby kind of loved him and always played whatever game he wanted to. He told her it'd be all right if she just stayed quiet, that as long as his mum and dad never knew how much he played with her, he'd never have to stop. So Abby smiled and accepted his kisses, never questioned where his hands travelled, and found herself confused at the screaming that came around when his mum walked into her room the last night she spent at that foster home. She tried explaining, as the social workers pulled her out the door, that he hadn't hurt her all that bad 'n not to be cross with him, but when she realized the mum was screaming at her she stopped fighting and allowed herself to be taken away.

She and Jack were apart for a year then, he stayed with the first foster family while she bounced from home to home. Abby never understood why, but she was never quite good enough for whatever family she'd been placed with. They all ended up sending her on her way only months after she arrived, and in the end, it became expected.

At sixteen she left her last foster home, got a job working at the pound, lied about her age and found herself a flat. She tried to get Jack out of care, but they told her she wasn't old enough to watch him yet so she carried on alone. Work, school, pay bills, pay rent, work, school, do what you can to keep your head above water. Boyfriend. Alone. Boyfriend. Alone. Jerk. Alone. Boyfriend. Alone. Two years passed and Jack came to live with her. Two more years passed, she came home from work and Jack was gone. She supposed at least there was a note on the table telling her she was too much to deal with and he was better off on his own.

Then there was the zoo.

Then the ARC which brought it's own list of losses with it.

Stephen.

Cutter.

Jenny.

Found and then lost Jack again.

Cretaceous.

Sarah.

Rex.

Sid and Nancy.

It was as she returned to her flat (not her flat, Jess's flat, 'cause she's lost everything again, remember?) the most recent loss was starting to settle into her heart.

Connor.

He'd been gone two days now, with no note, no explanation, no word of anything to say where he'd gone. She'd dropped him off at the lab after the multiple anomaly incident and gone about her day. When she'd gone back to find him at the end of the day, the door was open and the lab was empty, no Connor.

She'd found it odd he'd leave without saying something to her, but Connor had his quirks, so she'd gone home to find the flat empty. She realized that night that the bed she'd found warm and comfortable was cold and hard without Connor in it. The next morning she'd worked herself into a rage, and stormed into the ARC, fully intending to take a piece out of him for spending the night at the lab, but the room was still exactly as she'd left it. Door ajar. Papers on the table. Connor-free.

Jess could only shrug at her helplessly, he'd not taken a black box, she had no way of tracking him.

Matt told her to calm down, whatever it was he was sure Connor had a good reason. Abby was too upset to question why his eyes suddenly darkened and he was out the door minutes after she'd gone to him.

Lester stormed around his office, muttering under his breath about the loss of efficiency in a work environment once they allowed personal relationships between employees.

Becker paced the armoury, knowing Abby and Connor, knowing Connor'd not left willingly.

Occupied as they were, no one questioned the lack of Philip Burton's presence at the ARC at the same time as Connor. Occupied as they were, the core team stayed behind on the next creature incursion, sending the backup in to seal the anomaly. Occupied as they were, no one noticed the increase of anomalies, and Connor wasn't there to bring their attention to it.

When three days went by and still there was no word from Connor, Abby's eyes grew shielded. When four days went past, and Jess put a hand on her shoulder in comfort, Abby shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, Jess, everyone leaves eventually." Abby smiled then, and Jess was forced to step back. There was very little human left behind those cold blue eyes.

She packed her things and moved out of Jess's flat that night, choosing instead to stay in a dingy motel room rather than sleep in the bed she'd shared with Connor.

The fifth day brought on rage, and when her attitude became intolerable she was sent home by Lester until she'd calmed down.

The sixth day brought tears, shed alone in a strange, dark room with no arms wrapped around her to comfort her.

The seventh day brought the call from Jess saying that he'd returned with Burton, and would she please stop being stubborn and come into the ARC.

Abby stared at her mobile for what seemed like an eternity as she weighed her options, wondering if she had the strength left to face the bright, innocent expression she was sure she'd find on his face. He'd be all smiles and apologies, but the words would fall far short from easing the agony that he'd put her through. He'd reach for her and she knew, just knew, that she'd be far more inclined to lash out at him than offer the kiss he'd be expecting.

If he was expecting anything at all, having gone a week without any type of contact.

She trembled quietly, chewing softly on her lip before shrugged to herself.

If nothing else, Abby Maitland was no coward. What harm could there be in hearing him out?

As she grabbed her jacket and keys and stepped out of the room, it finally occurred to her that she was well and truly in love. Before Connor, no one had ever been worth a second chance. Then again, before Connor, no one had ever come back.

She sighed and shook her head, the hardness in her eyes easing slightly.

He'd better have a bloody good reason for not calling.

~~~Fin


End file.
